


there ain't no help (it's every man for himself)

by stylinshaw



Series: {without finding closure} [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cheating, M/M, Sad!Louis, Self-Harm, Songfic, and shitty, based off the script, can you view italics on this site, idk - Freeform, minor ziall, sad!harry, so im sorry, this is really really old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 01:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylinshaw/pseuds/stylinshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis cheats. Louis is depressed.</p><p>Louis cuts.</p><p>{six degrees of separation - the script}</p>
            </blockquote>





	there ain't no help (it's every man for himself)

**Author's Note:**

> this is like three months old im sorry  
> so ignore the tense mistakes and listen to six degrees of separation by the script because this is heavily based off it and um well its an amazing song  
> [i might continue it feedback please?]

(there ain’t no help, it’s every man for himself.)  
{first, you think the worst is a broken heart,}  
“Harry,” Louis sounded desperate-Harry wanted so badly to turn around and hug him and forgive him, but.  
“I know, I wasn’t enough,” Harry’s voice did not come out as cold and unfeeling, like he wanted-he sounds used and pathetic. “But,” he pointed at Eleanor, whose eyes are wide and a little apologetic. “You could’ve told me.”  
“Harry, please.”  
“Maybe I’ll see you around, Lou,” Harry paused, before meeting Louis’ drained blue eyes, still startling and wonderful to Harry.  
{he kind of knows he will see louis around-he knows it’ll be alright, but just not now.}  
*  
Louis didn’t want to-didn’t need to, didn’t have to-Eleanor came up to him, eyes wide and pleading, and asked for a kiss.  
“I can keep a secret,” she’d shrugged, twirling her brown hair with her fingers. “From Harry, I mean.”  
Louis had no idea what was going through his head-he’d just agreed and she’d attached her lips to his.  
It was okay-nothing compared to Harry, but.  
“…Lou?” he heard Harry squeak out from behind him, and Eleanor made a sound of surprise and Louis pulled away and-  
He didn’t like to think about it.  
*  
But he thought this was the worst part-something like harry left me and he’s not coming back.  
{what’s going to kill you is the second part,}  
But then there was comprehending.  
Harry sat in Niall’s flat, chewing on his lower lip, as the realisation of what had just happened-  
Fuck.  
No more morning cuddles. No more making breakfast for two people, feeding it to each other with giddy smiles on their faces. No more snuggling together under a blanket, watching Friends while drinking tea from each other’s mugs.  
No more Louis.  
This was fucked up.  
*  
Louis didn’t bother thinking straight-Harry wasn’t with him, Harry wasn’t there to tell him everything was all right, Harry was gone.  
His eyes stung with unshed tears, and he finally let them spill.  
He was such a screw-up.  
No wonder Harry’d broken up with him, he was just someone that didn’t know what to do, or anything.  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, tears slipping down his cheeks rapidly.  
He didn’t think he’d ever be happy again, to be honest.  
*  
{and the third, is when your world splits down the middle,}  
Harry sat alone in Niall’s flat-he’d taken to practically living there, because, reasons.  
He’d lost weight, his eyes were hollow and everyone around him knew what he needed.  
But.  
He was the reason behind this, and in some fucked up way, he could be the way to fix this.  
*  
Louis was reaching the peak of his depression.  
He knew how to go about doing what he was doing, and, well, it wasn’t pretty.  
Cuts littered his inner thighs, and fucking nobody knew about them.  
He considered slitting his wrist. But he owned too many short-sleeved shirts for that.  
He sat in the huge bathtub in their-sorry, not theirs anymore-bathroom, holding a shiny silver blade in his hand. He twirled it experimentally, looking at the edges that could slice through his tanned skin easily.  
Without thinking, he pressed the razor to his thigh-Harry, I’m sorry-and watched, a little scared, a little fascinated and in a rather fair amount of contentment as small drops of crimson leaked out of his leg.  
“I’m so sorry, Harry,” he murmured to himself, watching blood flow down the drain. He added another cut-Why do I exist-and another-Harry-and-  
He stopped before he could seriously hurt himself, but his eyes stung as he washed the blood away and this pain was far worse than the cuts, so.  
*  
“Louis.”  
The way Liam said his name was kind of utterly despairing, and sad and Louis felt heartbreak all over again.  
“What.”  
Liam flinched, taking in Louis’ appearance before crouching down and picking up the razor.  
“Don’t,” was all Liam said, before he was gone, razor and all.  
But Louis could’ve sworn he heard Liam mumble to himself-  
“Jesus, he’s as bad as Harry…”  
{fourth, you’re going to think that you fixed yourself,}  
“I’m fine,” Harry said to himself, staring at his feet. He looked up at his reflection slowly, seeing bags around his eyes and barely-touched hair and a skinny frame and-  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry told himself again. “Niall, let’s go to this bar.”  
*  
Louis turned to alcohol without his blade, feeling the scratchy material of his sweats rub against his freshest cuts, three days old.  
“Lou, let’s leave,” Liam said quietly, tugging on Louis’ sleeve gently. “Come on.”  
“No, Liam,” Louis slurred, the bar a whirl of colour around him. “Harry doesn’t love me, life’s not worth living.”  
He heard Liam’s breath hitch, and he didn’t bother getting up-  
{fifth, you see them out with someone else,}  
-“Lou, let’s leave. Please.” Liam begged, and Louis took a little pity on his friend and turned, only to meet the bright forest eyes of Harry Styles.  
He looked a little drawn, skinnier, maybe, and Louis refused to selfishly hope that Harry missed him too.  
Louis watched as Harry’s eyebrows rose, before he had turned to Niall and started a conversation with him.  
A dark-haired guy-Louis freely admitted he was really, really attractive-sidled up to Harry, and leaned in a little too close for Louis’ liking.  
There was nothing he could do about it.  
{and the sixth, is when you admit, that you may have fucked up a little-}  
“Lou, here, go to sleep,” Liam said, pulling the covers over the broken boy. “It’ll be okay.”  
“It won’t,” Louis said slowly, and Liam’s heart cracked a little. “Harry-Harry-“ his breath was speeding up a little, and Liam started stroking his hair rhythmically, a little alarmed.  
“I’m serious, it’ll be fine,” he said, and Louis turned over to face his pillow drunkenly, and Liam pretended not to notice the tears staining his cheeks.  
*  
Louis woke up to a cold bedroom, a pounding in his head and an insanely bright light filtering through his windows.  
Groaning, he got up, only to have the night’s events rush back to him. He raked a hand through his hair, wondering if the dark-haired guy and Harry’d got it on, if Harry was satisfied with life right now, if-  
Louis remembered the spare razor he’d hidden away before Liam had taken his first one.  
He went to find it.  
*  
Liam walked over to Louis’ front door, unlocking it with his spare key and striding in purposefully, expecting to see a hungover Louis slumped onto a chair, nursing a hot mug of tea-  
-but all he got was eerie silence, and somehow Liam knew what was happening.  
*  
“I’m sorry, why am I here? We didn’t fuck, right?” Zayn asked drowsily, and Harry laughed slightly.  
“Nah, you crashed here because you live in another town or something, I don’t know,” he said, stirring his tea which was, for absolutely no reason at all, exactly the same way Louis took it.  
“Thanks, mate,” Zayn said, sitting up. “Say, do you think you’d hook me up with that cute blonde friend of yours?”  
*  
“Louis, you fucking idiot,” Liam whispered to himself, grabbing his phone in one hand before grabbing a towel with the other. kneeling down next to the lifeless boy and pressing the towel to the cuts hastily, tears filling his eyes.  
He needed Harry.  
*  
“Nialler?” Harry asked, amused. “This is his flat, you know.”  
“…wait, what? There’s a cute Irish blonde within fifty meters of me?” Zayn all but yelled, and Harry laughed before his phone started buzzing.  
Leeyum calling.  
Harry scowled a little to himself, because.  
Getting up and walking away from Zayn while waving his hands, Harry pressed ‘answer.’  
“Hello?” he tried to make his voice as cool as possible, expecting to hear an awkward Liam at the other end.  
“Harry!” Liam sounds relieved, frantic and desperate. “I’m in the ambulance right now, oh my god-“ the rest was incoherent sobbing, and a little alarmed, Harry tried to calm Liam down.  
“What happened, Li?”  
“L-Lou-“ Harry’s heart sunk. “St. Lincoln’s.”  
The line went dead.  
*  
Liam tapped his foot impatiently, tears still stinging the at the back of his eyes. “Fuck,” he murmured to himself, just as a very dishevelled Harry Styles rushed into the room.  
“Liam?” he asked warily, coming closer. “What happened to Louis?”  
“Oh, god,” Liam collapsed into Harry’s arms immediately, and Harry-  
*  
Harry held Liam in his arms, worried out of his mind. “What is it?” he asked as calmly as possible, because fuck he needed to know what had happened to Louis.  
“He-he cut-” Liam’s words were swallowed by a loud sob, and Harry rubbed his back soothingly. “He cut himself, Haz,” Liam whispered. “I found-found him in the bathroom.”  
Harry instantly let Liam go, staggering back while clapping his hands over his mouth. “H-he cut himself?” he choked out, before falling to his knees. “I’m such a fucking idiot!”  
But-  
*  
{you take them back no hesitation, that’s when you know you’ve reached the sixth degree of separation.}  
-Louis opened his eyes slowly, looking around drowsily. He was donned in a breezy gown-like thing, and bandages lined his thighs. His eyes darted around, taking in the gleaming machines and white walls and-  
“Shit, I’m in a hospital,” Louis muttered to himself, finding the controls to propel the bed up. A nurse rushed in, holding a clipboard. “Mr. Tomlinson!” she breathed. “You have visitors, do you want them to come in?”  
“Why would anyone want to visit me?” Louis mumbled under his breath, mind flashing back to stunning green eyes and curls and-it was probably Liam. Right.  
“Yeah, sure,” he told the nurse, and she rushed out.  
Moments later, the door opened and in walked-  
*  
Liam walked into Louis’ room quickly, Harry trailing behind him hesitantly. He bit his lip, trying to contain all the emotions he felt.  
Louis was sitting up in bed, hair messily swept across his forehead and eyes practically grey. His skin was paler than it was before, and he had a sad smile on his face.  
He looked up, and his eyes widened.  
“Louis,” Liam said quietly, and-  
*  
Louis kept his eyes trained on Harry, who was staring at his shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the room.  
“Louis,” he heard Liam vaguely from a distance, but all he could see, hear, think of was Harry.  
Louis squeezed his eyes shut, maybe he was dead and this was just a figment of his imagination, maybe-  
“You fucking idiot!” Harry burst out, and Louis’ eyes flew open in surprise and expectancy. He knew Harry would hate him more for this, of course he did, seeing it happen was just worse for Louis.  
He stared at Harry, whose hair was a complete mess and cheeks stained with tears. Harry took a tiny step forward, and continued, as Liam backed out of the room a little warily.  
“Why?” he asked simply, rubbing furiously at his eyes.  
Louis sighed. “Nobody loves me, Harry,” his voice cracked at Harry’s name-it always would, wouldn’t it?  
Harry’s eyes widened, before he was speaking again. “I hate what you’ve done to me,” he whispered, and Louis’ heart broke even more. “But-fuck, Louis-I love you so much.”  
Louis shook his head, refusing to believe he was real. “No, Harry,” he whispered. “You don’t. No one does.”  
And Harry was launching himself at Louis, tears streaming down his face as he hugged Louis tightly, and Louis felt home.  
“Don’t ever say that again, or do this again, you fucking bastard,” Harry pounded weakly at Louis’ back, somehow providing a comforting feeling for Louis at the same time. “I fucking love you.”  
Louis glanced down at his bandages, before wrapping his arms around Harry’s torso, pressing his lips to the exposed skin at Harry’s collarbone. “I love you too,” he managed, and everything would be all right.  
*  
Harry held Louis in his arms-the best feeling he’d had in weeks-as Louis held tightly onto him.  
The bandages were fresh, obviously, and Harry-  
“Can I see?” he asked stupidly, and Louis froze, before nodding slowly. He moved away from Harry, fingering the tape around the bandages before pulling them off slightly.  
Harry gazed at the thin pink lines, all arranged-  
Harry momentarily lost his breath, really. He looked up at Louis slowly, who was fidgeting with his hands.  
“I’m sorry,” he croaked out. “Lou. Louis, was this…”  
“No, it wasn’t because of you!” Louis said hastily, covering the message carved into his legs. “I hated myself, Harry…I let go of the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said softly.  
Harry’s eyes watered, and he pulled Louis back into his embrace. “Take me back, sweetheart?” he asked softly, and Louis sniffled.  
“I was always yours,” he said. “God, Haz, I’m so-”  
“It’s alright,” Harry shushed his boyfriend-god-and ducked down, kissing each one of the scars on Louis’ thighs. “I love you.”  
“I love you too,” Louis murmured, and they both drifted off.


End file.
